


Bring Me Back to You

by theparanoidwriter



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 10:40:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1223296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theparanoidwriter/pseuds/theparanoidwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ancient myths tell that a child's cries upon birth are over their last death.</p><p>Marco Bodt and Jean Kirschtein were born with the gentlest of smiles on their faces. No tears, no crying. Only a smile. A smile the likes of which neither child's family saw again until the day the two meet again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring Me Back to You

“Fuck! That's cold.”  
Marco chuckled in spite of the Arctic wind that stung them. He pulled his boyfriend up out of the ice water then laid back down on the snow beside him.  
The man beside him groaned and wiggled his toes, or rather, he tried but it's hard to wiggle something that was numb and frozen from the water. He couldn't remember how they ended up here.  
“Hey Marco...why are we here again?”  
“Well I don't know about you, but around twenty seven years ago my parents -”  
Jean swung his arm loosely and hit snow.  
“Not that! I mean here..the North Pole. Freezing our asses off.”  
Marco didn't miss a beat.  
“We're evolving into popsicles. Personally, I hope I'm grape flavored."  
Jean groaned.  
“We're going to die here, with fucking penguins and you're joking about popsicles.”  
The information sessions they'd attended and the training they'd gone through warned them of the cold. Temperatures were extremely low and the wind chill factor posed more of a threat than any wildlife they ran into – they were right. Marco could feel the tingle like static on a t.v. Screen spreading through his body as the wind picked up.  
“Hey Jean.”  
He turned his head to look him in the face.  
“Yeah?”  
Marco placed his hand on Jean's and gave it a small squeeze.  
Marco smiled at Jean and he smiled back. They said nothing – there was no need for words, everything that needed to be said was told through that one gesture.

***  
“It's a beautiful baby boy,” the nurse announced as she handed Mrs. Bodt the wrapped bundle.  
Mrs. Bodt couldn't be prouder of the baby in her arms. Black hair cuddlind his head, the most adorable dimples, and a smile that was the embodiment of everything that is beautiful in life.  
She pressed her lips against against his forehead then pulled back with a hiss. Her son was freezing!

“We tried to tell you before, his body temperature is extremely low.”

She gave her son another kiss. “Momma will be waiting for you Marco, okay?”

The nurse nodded then bustled off to the ICU where she ran into another nurse.  
“Poor child's likely to freeze to death. His temperature's steadily dropping.”

“We found a drop-off with a similar condition. Poor dears.”

Blue tinged their cheeks and they shivered as the nurses placed them down. They sought out and grasped one another's hands, similar smiles on both faces.

The nurses fawned over the newborns.

“Well would you look at that?”  
The blue faded as pink creeped onto their cheeks. Their temperatures were still low enough that they would need to keep them in there, but it was a significant improvement from only minutes before.  
It was decided that the two would stay beside one another as neither harmed the other's health, as well as the nurse's inability to separate the two. During the two week period they stayed there, the hospital staff learned that the two were capable of crying and did so when the other was taken from the room.  
Mrs. Bodt checked in as often as she could, eager to take her baby boy home. Like the rest of the staff, she fell in love with her son's friend. Nobody had seen the child placed at the front step and security cameras only caught a shadowy form.

“The poor dear. What will become of him when he's released?”

“We've already waited so long to see if maybe the mother would change her mind. If nobody speaks up, he'll be put into the system.”  
Mrs. Bodt shivered; she'd been a child of the system for twelve years before one of her foster moms adopted her. Even then she watched all the children who came in and out of their lives. She couldn't even bring the memories to mind. She wouldn't wish that on anyone.  
“I'll take him.”  
“Mrs. Bodt, it-”  
She pursed her lips. “I'm aware of how it goes.” Then a smile. “I have friends in the system; he will go home with me!”  
The next few days brought progressively better news. The adoption looked to go smoothly and the boys could be released soon.  
Two days before, as Mrs. Bodt said her good nights to the nursing staff, the door flew open.

“Where is he?!”

“He, who?”

The man, in his thirties and dressed sharply, stormed in. “The receptionist said that my son was here. Bitch just dumped him, thought I wouldn't find him.”  
He straightened and apologized for his language and said, “Ten days ago at 11:54 p.m. A woman left a newborn child at your door step. My child.”  
Mrs. Bodt watched him argue with the nurses a few minutes before he stormed out. They all blew it off soon enough and said their goodnights.  
The day of their release, two weeks after birth, Mrs. Bodt was almost inclined to let the children stay there.  
Marco and Jean cuddled one another on their shared bed. Their chests rose and fell in a call and response pattern. One's breath tickled the other's cheeks, and pink flushed their face.  
They looked so content and peaceful; she couldn't disturb them. Fortunately for her, she didn't have to.  
The man from before barged in, papers in hand and threw open the door. The same man who went in was not the same one who came out. He cradled Jean in his arms. He handed the head nurse the paperwork and smiled down at his son.  
“Daddy's got you now, Jean. Daddy's got you.”  
Jean was still asleep and given the silence, Marco was too. 

“I'd like to apologize for my behavior before; I only wanted my son. That's your son in there, isn't it?”

Mrs. Bodt took a moment to register his question. She didn't expect him to address her. She smoothed her skirt and answered, “Ah,yes. That's my son. Jean and he were both -”

“Everything looks to be in order.”

He apologized and broke away to speak with the nurse.

Mrs. Bodt forced a smile. How did he manage to accomplish it so quickly? She had to fight tooth and claw even with her connections. Then she heard the terms blood test. So he was Jean's biological father; she couldn't take him.  
Jean's smile fell into a flat line. 

The poor dear. 

Marco must have a similar expression. She clutched her purse strap tightly in anticipation of his cries, knowing they would come soon enough.  
The nurse finished and headed off on some business which left Mrs. Bodt and the man in the room.

“Excuse me, Mr...?”

“Kirschtein. Phillipe Kirschtein.”

Mrs. Bodt could see where Jean got his smile from. She took out a slip of paper and scribbled down her phone number and address. She gave it to him and said, “Our children took a liking to each other, a bond that would be a crime to break. This is my number and address; you're always welcome to bring Jean over. Or if you ever need a babysitter, don't hesitate to call.”

“I might very well take you up on that offer.”

He laughed, thanked her, and left.

Somebody dropped something and Marco woke up. He wailed with such longing, she burst into tears as well when she rushed into the room to scoop her son into her arms.

“Shh, shh. You'll be together again soon, my son. I promise.”

His face grew red as his crying continued.

“Mommy's here right now, baby boy. I won't let anything hurt you.”

 

***  
“Give me a smile!”  
Marco laughed, “Mom, if I smile any bigger my face will tear.” He waited until he saw the flash then picked up his backpack and headed over to his mom.

“Am I asleep in this one?”

That was Mimzy's way of describing his pictures since he always managed to blink in every single one. On his tippytoes, he laughed at his expression. His face looked ready to fall apart at the seams. He started to comment that when a drop of water splashed on his hair.

“Mom?”

Mrs. Bodt held the digital camera in one hand, the other hand pressed to her mouth. He was happy, but it wasn't the same.

What happened to my baby's smile?

She knew what had happened. Marco smiled all the time and had grown into a cheerful child after those first two years, but the one he flashed now lacked the warmth and completion that his first one had. Jean brought it out, but she didn't know where he was. Nobody knew where he was. Mr. Kirschtein flew out of the country one night without a word. He would be eleven now as well, entering fifth grade.

I hope your father has been good to you and he holds you the same way he did then, the way you and Marco held one another.

“Mom?”

Marco wrapped his arms around his mother's waist and nuzzled her side.

“Please don't be upset, Mom.”

Somebody was hugging her; she looked down.

“Marco?”

He looked up at her with tears forming in his eyes. She set the camera down on the roof of the car then squatted and pulled her son into her arms.

“Marco, honey, what's wrong? Why are you crying?”

“You looked so upset a-and you wouldn't say any-anything,” he managed in between hics and sobs.

“Oh, honey!”

They stayed in each other's arms and soaked each other's shoulders with tears until the school bell rang.  
Marco was the first to pull back; he placed his hands on either side of his mother's face and smiled.  
Mrs. Bodt smiled at her son then kissed his cheek before patting his shoulder. “You better hurry now, or you'll be late!”

Marco untensed at his mother's smile. He gave her a kiss as well then ran off to class. He rushed in and sat in the front row just as the final bell rang.  
The teacher wrote her name out in chalk on the board : Ms. Zoe. She wore large red glasses and had her hair pulled back with a ribbon. She smiled as she faced her students.

“Welcome to the fifth grade. I'm Ms. Zoe, and I'd like to start the year with some good news.”  
She pressed her hands together then threw them up as she said, “I contacted a friend at a school in France and we set up pen pals for you guys!”

Several of the students groaned and shoes squeaked as they pressed into their seats.

Ms. Zoe's smile faltered a moment but returned as she took a stack of papers off her desk and passed them out.

“It'll be fun! Just wait and see!'

Marco's classmates muttered their doubts, but he couldn't wait to get started. France was so far away! Across the ocean! He bet they did a lot of different things than they did here in California.  
He listened to his classroom rules and did his classwork, but the whole day he thought about who his penpal might be.  
The bell rang and once ms. Zoe dismissed the class, Marco rushed out of the door. His mother waved him over from her usual spot and he sprinted over. He slid into his seat and turned towards her.

“Mom! Ms. Zoe -”

“Marco, put your seat belt on please.”

He jerked the belt across and buckled himself in then whipped out the paper and handed it to her.

“We're going to have pen pals! From France!”

Mrs. Bodt laughed at her son's enthusiasm.

“So who do you have?”

The paper held a list of names from both classes and took her a moment to make sense of it. She found Marco's name then followed it across.

The paper fluttered to the floor.

“Mom? Is something wrong?”

Behind them cars honked.

“Mom?”

He reached for her shoulder, but she smiled and shook her head. She swallowed the lump in her throat and drove forward.  
Marco picked up the paper and looked at his pen pal's name for the fifth time – Jean Kirschtein.


End file.
